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Monday, September 23, 2013

Colonoscopy Games

Since I revealed my shocking medical condition in the
article, Hospital Cat Scams, scores
of Wry Bread readers on various continents have written to inquire about the
present status of my health.Well, maybe
not scores, but several of you.Okay, the
word several may give the wrong
impression, let’s just say that some of
you have---well, you haven’t actually written---you’ve
been busy with other things, I’m sure, but I have no doubt you’ve been anxious about my current condition, perhaps
subconsciously. Yes, that’s it.There’s
been a lot of subconscious anxiety
going on.So to ease your mind, and to permit
you to focus on your daily tasks undistracted, I will bring you up
to date on my progress.As you may recall, I was driven to an emergency room by severe
stomach pain (and for a pain, it drove surprisingly well), where a cat scan revealed that although my
intestinal tract was completely cat-free (as I kept insisting), there were diverse ticks in my litis (a segment of
the colon, I presume).The technical
name is Diverticulitis. I was told to follow up with the doctor who
had conducted my last colonoscopy.This
seemed an odd choice, because in that
procedure, just months before, this “expert” had detected no signs of ticks.The question before us was a simple one; in
light of the new diagnosis, should I schedule another colonoscopy?I argued for the opposition.In case you haven’t yet had the experience, the colonoscopy, as one might guess, involves a colon and a scope.As the patient reclines face down in a
poor-excuse for a robe, the doctor, having previously chosen a convenient point
of access, drives a remote-controlled camera through the hairpin turns of the
patient’s digestive tract, all the while trying not to collide with the intestinal
wall.If he touches the wall, a buzzer
sounds and he loses his turn.Then the
next doctor steps in, but he can’t begin where the first doctor left off.He has to begin at Start (also called Home).

In the Sorry™ version of the colonoscopy, before he can
enter the colon with his scope, each doctor
has to draw either a one or a two from the deck of cards which the
nurse has provided.Furthermore, if while
Doctor A is probing the colon, Doctor B draws a Sorry™ card, Doctor A has to go all the way back to start, even if he
was almost at the end (you’re right, Pretty Boy, one might say these doctors
are always at the end).This version can take a bit longer than the
classic version, but it has the advantage of suspense, in that one can never
tell which doctor will complete it first.The Monopoly™ version is the Cadillac of colonoscopies.It is widely regarded as the most thorough,
as it can be conducted by several doctors at once. In this version, each doctor assumes oversight
of only particular segments of the colon, and a doctor is penalized when he
ventures into another doctor’s territory.The penalty varies based on the value ascribed to that segment of the
colon. (The most valuable segment is blue, followed by green and yellow.) Unfortunately, this colonoscopy can be quite
lengthy.Some Monopoly™ colonoscopies
begun on a Monday morning have reportedly not ended until Tuesday night.The only other negative is that some patients
have reported finding in their stool (sometimes days later) small metal top
hats, thimbles and terriers.FYI: The
Monopoly™ version colonoscopy is generally only covered by federal government
insurance plans. As a former English
major, I opted for the Scrabble™ version colonoscopy, also known as the semi-colonoscopy.It was shorter and less expensive, but
apparently it doesn’t always catch everything---sometimes the doctor draws a
blank.

To be honest, I don’t really remember the procedure, as just
before it took place, I seem to have fallen into a deep sleep while counting
backwards from a hundred. I can only
assume that I was hypnotized by
hospital staff.Now that I think of it,
the guy that took my blood pressure looked a lot like Rasputin, or David
Copperfield, or Charles Dickens.I’m sure the hypnosis has worn off by now, but
there’s one sure way to find out: “One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninetyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
Huh, it still works! As I was saying, I don’t remember the
procedure, but I have a rather distinct recollection of the preparations the
day before.Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy
abstaining from solid food and drinking a few gallons of a horrible gelatinous
substance that keeps me near the bathroom all day as much as the next guy, but this
was a matter of principle; I clearly recall being told that I would be colonoscopy-free
for another several years.This doctor,
however, seemed to think it would be good for me to have another one----if I
were his father.

“If you were my father,” he said, “I would advise you to
have another.”

That argument didn’t carry much weight with me, because I
was thinking, If I were your father,
then surely I’d have some recollection of
you.I would have noticed you around
the house, or on family vacations, or at soccer games and such, and I certainly
would have tried to dissuade you from going to Med School, an expensive proposition
that might well have required some assistance from me.

I had to straighten out the poor fellow, but I wanted to let
him down easy. “I’m pretty sure I’m not your father,” I said; “but I know your
father would be proud of you.”

“But, you’re old
enough to be my father,” he replied.

Evidently he wasn’t going to let this go.Now I have no doubt that it was hard for him
to go through life not knowing his father, but suspecting every male of a sufficient
age who entered his office was no way to track down his dad, and it was liable
to alienate his patients.Then it
occurred to me that he might have some DNA information to which I was not privy
(which, like his “hospital privileges,” was an advantage he had over me just
because he was a “physician,” and technically, I was “not.”). The problem was, there
was no scenario I could envision that would account for me having a son I
couldn’t recall. Pro-basketball players,
we are told, have unknown children pop up willy-nilly from time to time, but I
didn’t remember ever actually playing
in the NBA. I thought, perhaps a
serious blow to the head left me with no memory of my playing days.Then it occurred to me that I can’t dribble,
shoot, jump, or run fast.Yes, the head
injury could account for that, but could a former NBA player be utterly tattoo-less?Clearly, the basketball explanation seemed
far-fetched.No, I was fairly certain I
was not his father.I didn’t want to be
insensitive, but I felt I had to speak plainly at this point, so I made another
attempt.

“Frankly, Doctor, lots
of people are old enough to be your father, but that’s not much to go
on.You might want to start with people
who have---you know, the same last name---or
maybe those who look vaguely familiar, or
those who at least know your mother.”

These things seemed self-evident to me.I didn’t tell him this, but I wondered that a
physician could be so confused on such elementary matters.Then I remembered that he was part of the
same system that recommends scanning for
cats at the first sign of any internal trouble. Clearly, sometime during the arduous medical
training, basic common sense goes out
the window.Maybe it’s a result of all
that sleep-deprivation we hear about during hospital internships.It’s no wonder many doctors simply stop
practicing medicine, and end up writing children’s books (Dr. Seuss), focusing
on time-travel (Dr. Who), or plotting world domination (Dr. No).

Anyway, you’ll be happy to hear that the doctor eventually dropped the whole “Are you my father?” issue,
and tried to convince me that he never
really thought I was his dad (of course I was there, and I know what he
said).He didn’t insist on another
colonoscopy either, for which I was grateful.He did however refer me to a
colleague.This doctor just invited me
to relax in his plush office while he asked me a lot of questions like, did I
ever hear voices, did I ever think people were following me, and did I ever see
messagesthat I thought were directed
just to me in public places, like stadiums. I didn’t see what any of this had to do with
my digestive tract, but of course I answered “Yes,” to all those questions. (If I
didn’t hear voices, how would I know what he was saying? Sometimes
people invited for lunch after church follow me to our home; at those times I think people are following me.And at Oriole games, sometimes I’ve received
text messages directed just to me from
my brother Kenny after home runs and such.)

The doctor excused himself after I answered yes to his
questions, a nurse came in and gave me a pill, and the next thing I knew, I was
in another hospital.Curiously, this one
has soft walls.I’ve been here several
days now, and no one has told me why. I
think it must be serious.I suspect that
one of those diverse ticks in my colon may be carrying something bad.Maybe I’ve picked up Mad Tick Disease.These
ticks are going to be the death of me.I’ve decided that my next colonoscopy will be a thorough Monopoly™ one, even if the procedure takes a couple days and I have to pass a thimble.

It would in fact be a great trial for a person to go through
life without ever knowing his father.Not
only would he have persistent unanswered questions about his own origin, his
characteristics, his personality, etc., he would have, I imagine, a certain void at the core of his being, having
never experienced a father’s love and approbation. He would have a perpetual longing for
something difficult to describe or quantify, but nonetheless quite real.

But there is something much worse; it is going through life
not knowing your creator, the one who formed you in His image, and placed you
here for His purposes. It is living without a heavenly father, and the assurance of his forgiveness, mercy and
grace.It is living without any
knowledge of who you are, and why you’re here---or why anyone else is here---or for that matter, why there is something here, rather than nothing.That “something” was either planned and created by a preexistent being, or it sprang out of nothing with no designer and no creator.If the latter,
then the creation of the universe, and life itself, violates everything we know
and experience about how things come about.If the former, then it is
incumbent upon us to seek to know the one who created us.Jesus of Nazareth declared himself to be the
Son of God, and he said that he revealed the Father to us.He said, “He who has seen me has seen the
Father.”[John 14:9] You
may read the eyewitness accounts of him in what we call the Gospels of Matthew,
Mark, Luke and John, and it is possible you will conclude that He is not the Son of God.You may conclude that He lied, or was mistaken, or
was misquoted, when you read that He
said things like, “I am the way, the truth and the life, and no one comes to the
Father except through me.” [John
14:6]But to refuse to read his words---to not even consider his claims---that seems to me to be the course of madness.If you are mad, you are liable to find
yourself in a padded room one day.Wait---this
hospital has padded rooms!So that’s why I’m here! I’m not dying; I’m
just crazy.This is great news.I may not need another colonoscopy after all.